


Aftermath

by Spacenight



Series: The Heart wants... [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kinktober 2020, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Soulless Sam Winchester, hickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacenight/pseuds/Spacenight
Summary: Dean struggles to come to terms with what happened between him and his brother.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: The Heart wants... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956475
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Aftermath

Dean fingered the marks Sam had left. 

They were sitting in a diner, waiting for their breakfast. Dean wasn’t really hungry, but Sam had ordered for him. His favourites, pancakes with bacon and maple syrup. As if he were a child, as if that would make it all better again. 

Dean put his hands down on the table and laced the fingers together to keep them there. He looked down at the scratched formica, then out the grimy window, the dirt reflecting the bright sunlight. Anywhere but at Sam. 

Sam who was acting as if nothing unusual had happened, typing away on his laptop, looking for new cases. Dean felt cracked open, his innards spilled out. Sam looked more put together than ever. A deep weariness dragged at Dean, the urge to just for once put down his burden. His fingers wandered back of their own accord. Pressing into the purple flesh at his neck, where Sam had kissed and sucked until the blood rose to the surface. 

And Dean had liked it. 

Had liked Sam’s bigger frame pressing him down, holding him, so he could do nothing but give up, give in. He couldn’t remember a time in his life where he’d been able to just let go, and it brought a heady rush of freedom. It scared him. He shouldn’t feel these things. He’d always known that he was wrong, broken somehow. That it wasn’t right, the way he loved Sammy. In a way, his going away to Stanford had been a relief, temptation removed. But it had also been hell. He’d missed his brother with every fibre of his miserable being. 

Even more so this last year, when he’d thought Sam dead, caught in a cage with the Devil. 

But now, having him back threatened to overwhelm his senses, threatened to strip him of his very essence, and he did not know how to fight it anymore. 

He looked at Sam. His face had become sharper somehow in the year he’d been gone. There were hard lines that had eclipsed all boyishness. Dean felt himself react, the rush of blood to his cock arousing and sickening. Sam looked up at him at that moment, as if he knew, and he smiled. His dimples showed, but his eyes stayed hard, cataloguing, measuring. Dean looked away first, blushing. 

He jumped as the waitress set down their plates and broke the moment. He couldn’t dredge up the old instinct, to smile at her, to flirt. Instead he just stared out of the window, let Sam handle it. He jumped again when he felt his brother’s hand on his. 

“You’ve been taking care of us your whole life. Don’t you think it’s time I took my turn?”


End file.
